Warbirds
by Bushtuckapenguin
Summary: Dane's not fussed she's suddenly the stormheeled warrior, Sailor Aello. she's got more important stuff to be concerned about then wangsting over a past life. That chainsaw inspired youma rushing at her head for example...
1. Trials and Tribulations

**G'day** **and Welcome to my otaku senshi fanfiction! Please read, review and critique, I love to know your thoughts about everything from vocabulary to setting to characterization. I should warn that Warbirds is actually my parts in an otaku senshi RPG, the link of which is in my bio, along with any number of other websites you might find interesting including a gallery of my art for this fic. That said, some of the characters that appear in this fic don't belong to me but other members of the RPG which will be given their enormous credit due as they appear.**

**I would also like advertise my new forum on Shining Starseeds which is dedicated to discussing other otaku senshi. Otherwise, please enjoy and critique!**

* * *

**Warbirds  
**_Triggers and Tribulations  
_Chapter 1

**S**elf restraint was a wonderful thing.

It helped her smile when people cut her off in traffic. It helped her accept the apologies of absent minded shoppers as they rammed her ankles with grocery trolleys. It helped her decide not to take a machete to work when she needed a solution to her problems.

Fortunately, she had loads. Self restraint, not machetes although her collection did make a lovely conversational starter especially when opening gambits involved 'You call that a knife?'

Dane was considering her collection very carefully, turning over their blades in her mind, feeling the leather handles and wondering which one she was willing to get all yucky when she hacked Professor Tribe Severitt's knees out from under him after he yawned and said, "I'm smashed. You take care of our charges and I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early in front of the gates."

Her glare was filthy, but only because she was at his back. As her mentor stretched his arms above his head she paid alarming attention to the spot between his shoulder blades.

The two were a comical appearance framed against the hatch of the plane.

Tribe's lanky frame bent to avoid bumping his head against the roof. Hair the colour of manky straw was roughly cropped and wire rimmed glasses perched respectably on his nose. All his movements were smooth and extravagant that had an amusing emu-like quality about them. Born of old Ceylon, he rose to become a prominent member of Australia's zoological society and had done the rounds of just about every wildlife park in the country. Seeing the tragedies visited upon those that couldn't speak for themselves had sharpened a razor like sarcasm that made people take careful note of any cracks they could crawl into before they spoke.

If the Professor was an emu, Dane was a fairy wren. There was a youthfulness that would dog her until her thirties, with a roundish face, shaggy hair and tiny frame that brought words like _petite, dainty, _or _midget_ to mind. In fact she first attracted Tribe's attention in her seventh semester concerning a question about varying weights within a species. She had ventured hesitantly, 'Forty kilograms,' and his whiplike answer had been, "I asked for your weight, not your IQ!"

Jetlag burdened her shoulders as she resented her Professor's loping beeline for the airport's bar, but she turned her attention to the hind of the plane where there was a growing sea of khaki. They were wearing expressions of worry and excitement and chattering like monkeys, gazing up at her as she lolled over the guard rail of carriage staircase.

More disturbing however was the general public. Mostly women and children, they pressed themselves against the wire mesh walling off the runway squealing and cheering and clapping like sealions begging for fish. They waved eucalypt branches, plush toys, papier-mâché ears and cardboard signs in broken English, near wetting their pants with an enthusiasm she thought even a famous popstar would have difficulty rousing.

She blinked slowly at them.

Koala's had lost their enigma years ago for Dane, who had grown up with them in the trees surrounding her home in bushland Australia and then worked with them for over two years at Lone Pine Sanctuary. She could no longer empathise with the world's attraction for what she intimately knew to be a furry razor blade with a libido.

But this was an Opportunity. Dane did not throw away Opportunities. It may have been a cruddy little petting zoo and cruddy little amusement park, but it was experience in koala husbandry and she would learn by the end of her four year contract to speak Japanese fluently. Lone Pine would have to hire her as a senior keeper! The majority of their business was Japanese tourists. She daydreamed of soaring eagles and swooping barn owls as she descended the stairs to meet the Head Director of Hashimoto Amusement Park. There was a moment of incredulity and possibly even insult across the man's face as she approached.

Dane was wrong in her assumptions.

Amusement park though it was, cruddy it wasn't as she should have known. Koalas were notoriously expensive to keep overseas because of a selective diet of eucalypts and he had jumped through flaming hoops for over ten years to make this meeting possible. Joseph Hogushano had mature plantation, 150 eucalypt trees for each of the eight new residents which would be harvested every morning. Laws and forms and reports and scientific journals and meetings and building networks, and they sent a girl who couldn't possibly be out of her high school uniform.

"G'day," she introduced with a vague bow. She wasn't sure if it was the right etiquette but that's what they seemed to do in those bizarre movies late at night on SBS. "I'm Junior Keeper of new Dane Sorier, exhibit. References, receive my, d'ya?"

There was another long moment as he untangled the mangled Japanese. Yoda couldn't have done a better job. Luckily her only duty for now would be handling her charges, the other woman, Yuki or someone would handle the speaking roles.

"Yes I did Ms Sorier. You've only _just _graduated?" Mr Hogushano said in flawless English, and Dane remained immune to the patronising tone.

"No sir, that was two years ago."

"And yet you were recommended by _Tribe Severitt._"

"I'm as surprised as you are," she admitted. She was no more memorable a brick wall you passed everyday on the way to work and it was only in the past year as did he assume his vital preparation role around the Sanctuary. "He'll be keeping an eye on me, and lecturing at the local university."

"Do you need someone to keep an eye on you?"

"No Mr Hogushano, she's quiet, obedient and works well independently. She just needs her caffeine shot, but in lieu of a subcutaneous injection I have managed to secure a mundane plastic cup."

Hogushano's scowl miraculously disappeared as he smiled over the top of her head to the source of the earthy smell of coffee and the looming shadow of her mentor.

"Thankyou sir," she said gratefully, wrapping her fingers around it protectively against a chilly wind carrying the tang of rain. The clouds hung far on the horizon silhouetted by the halo of a soon to be setting sun.

She tried to shift behind Tribe so she could enjoy her coffee and he could take over but instead his huge spidery hands pressed forcefully into her back.

"She looks very young," Mr Hogushano smiled, by now quite used to his banter.

"I know, I can't tell you how entertaining it is to watch her get into eighteen-plus movies. Much better then the feature presentation in fact. I am however under the impression she's twenty-two. She does however have the experience, even if she doesn't have my good looks and charisma to pull it off. A master of the mop, sultan of soapsuds and connoisseur of all things copro."

"And the koalas?"

"They're koalas, what do they need to know about soap?" he beamed with grand gestures in the direction of the unloaded crates, deftly steering the conversation elsewhere. He paused only to slide his glasses back from the tip of his nose and strode through the puddle of other employees forcing Dane to trot in his wake to keep up.

"So, Junior Keeper what should we do now?" He waggled his extensive eyebrows at her.

"How far is the amusement park?" she said tentatively. Tribe had a way of leading you by the nose to an answer only for it to be wrong.

"A mere twenty minutes away. The local council has cleared a back road for us so the trip will be smooth."

"Then let's leave now."

"You don't want to check you're babies?"

"No. Too much stress and may suffer post-travel myopathy."

"Good girl, here's a biscuit," he cooed, pulling a crumpled complimentary packet from his back pocket and patted her on the head.

** : **

**D**ane felt the changes in herself in the months leading up to Japan. In fact she was pretty sure their trigger had been when Tribe commented jovially about the position of junior keeper at the Aussie-Land! section of Hashimoto Amusement Park.

She hadn't believed him of course.

Partially because like all people under the age of thirty Tribe treated her like something that refused to flush.

Partially because of his innate sarcasm

Mostly it was because she was pooper-scooping the main arena with the faecal matter of various species on her shorts.

Initially the changes had been subtle alterations of her personality, although how she noticed was anyone's guess because she lived her days in a semi-conscious stupor.

She worked two other jobs exploring the exhilaration of the fast food industry along with her current position at the park. Late nights were filled answering job CV's and every other waking moment was volunteering in other wildlife circles. Not from the goodness of her heart of course, only because volunteer experience was a prerequisite of any decent employment.

If there was no sleep for the wicked she was looking at a very bleak afterlife.

Still, no worries.

"So, lowly minion," Professor Tribe had smirked. "How would you feel about crossing the big blue wet thing to be the Colony's new junior keeper?"

The Colony was a group of eight koalas that were being sent overseas by the end of the year and occupied a large chunk of the Sanctuary's concentration.

"Meh," she shrugged, suppressing a yawn and questioning her hearing at the same time.

"And there's that enthusiasm that got you a 5.2 in Wildlife Husbandry, Dane. Please don't be polite, it's obviously too much effort for one as lethargic as yourself. Who am I kidding? _Lethargic_ has far too many syllables."

And that was it. There had been no magical explosion, or miraculous epiphany or angelic chorus from the air; she just went on scraping and wondering if they were weighing in the latest pouch young in the kangaroo exhibit. Tribe meandered away, presumably to heckle some volunteers, and she knocked off to prepare for her job at Sizzlers.

Life went on. She still moped from job to job, still filled out the same employment applications and read the same rejection letters, but something was clearly was boiling up inside.

For one thing she was about as objective as a beanbag. It went against her very soul to put an opinion forward even if she could clearly see a more effective way to do it. You shut up and did everything to the exact letter you were told. That way when things screwed up, as everything eventually would, someone else would cop the blame and you could get away with 'I was following orders.'

But then she started making _suggestions._ The whole concept was diabolical but there she was, suggesting a new way to run the roos into canvas. It ended as well as could be expected. Only one rammed headlong into the chainlink fence, earning a look from Tribe that could sour milk and a dim shake of her head from Rosalie, head macropod vet of the park. Nice advertising if she ever asked for references.

She _could_ chalk up these mental eructations to poor sleep but they continued to mount, accompanied by their always depressing consequences. She was beginning to suspect a brain tumour (but only in a vague, round about way that was about as apprehensive as fluffy slippers.)

Increasingly worrying were piercing looks Professor Tribe sent her way. With the Colony's expedition date a mere eleven months away, he was spending more time around the park in preparation. The two now had a companionable truce or as close to one as was possible with Tribe, but for long stretches he would simply stare at her which was more disturbing than all his confidence bashing put together.

And in pure Tribe fashion when she finally got up the guts to ask why he answered distractedly, "Just listening to the voices in my head. Relax. Eight of the ten are telling me not to shoot."

He was holding the tranquilizer pistol at the time which was not at all reassuring.

** : **

**J**ust when she thought she could get used to those strange outbursts, the dreams started.

Again it was no coincidence it was the same day Rosalie and Tribe approached her with funeral-like gravity. Rosalie, a feisty woman leaning towards the big Six-Oh, looked like she was fresh from Monty Python's _Argument Clinic_ sketch. Tribe wore his patented _snerk_ (a cross between a snigger and a smirk) but if she could actually see behind those eyes she would hear a voice wondering if psychosis was a symptom of an overdue midlife crisis.

Dane stared blankly, leaning on the shovel which had been used to clean up the baby animal area of the Sanctuary. While she realised life couldn't always be as glamorous as getting urine samples from dingos or being vomited on by baby animals, even after four years Rosalie always seemed to give her more than her share of literally crappy chores.

"Dane," Rosalie said sombrely. When her expression didn't change she continued, "You know the colony is leaving for Japan in less than ten months?"

"Yuhuh, ma'am?"

"You also know Kimberly, the original junior keeper going discovered she was six weeks pregnant yesterday morning."

"Yup, I got cake at the celebration this morning," she smiled fondly. Cake was now a huge deal when you struggled to pay rent. "Chocolate and cream. And cherries."

"Yes, well we've been trying to find a replacement." Again that same half smile. The girl was too lazy to even jump to a conclusion. "And the alternatives have already committed themselves elsewhere. Professor Severitt has suggested, insisted, that you be considered for the role."

That changed her expression which gawped at her serenely smiling lecturer.

"No, don't thank me," he gestured gallantly. "Just pay all bribes to the pigeon-hole with my name on it in a discreet brown bag with a bright green dollar sign on it."

"Why?"

"I don't know, we suspect it's a delayed concussion speaking but Professor Severitt thinks you're good for the job." Rosalie shot him a glare. He seemed to doubt the words himself but shrugged. "That's beside the point. You've got enough experience with the other animals, you handle the Colony everyday and they're used to you. You seem to grasp the basics of Japanese- keep your opinions to yourself Tribe- and you don't seem to have too many attachments here."

"Nah, not really. Mum and dad are way out west. They've have gotten used to me being away. It sounds alright," she smiled broadly, although with her indolent slur it came out as 'souns sawrye'. Rosalie couldn't imagine her articulating an entire word.

"Moving to Japan for an amazing opportunity sounds _alright_?" She hefted a furry eyebrow.

"Yeah, no worries."

"Well, talk to your family tonight and then we'll sign the forms to accept you as a general employee on wage. Do you have a passport?"

Again, prophetic comets were conspicuously absent but her parents had been quick to agree with the 'amazing opportunity'. Soon they would be joining the grey nomad migration around Australia and her brother was settling into a comfortable plumber's apprenticeship in a rural mining community.

She drifted off to sleep with the television blaring in another room into a dream she'd never encountered before, but would encounter every night there on.

She wasn't sure was even dreaming if only because hers usually revolved around kitchen appliances and sneakers with teeth coming for revenge. They had all the clarity of peasoup but the first time found herself in a bright garden filled with tropical orchids, swaying in a humid breeze. The air was heavy with their musky scent and harsh bird cries floated from the tall rainforest that skirted what might have been a palace- albeit one Tarzan would have been at home in.

Even though she turned her head to take it all in, she had no control of it. It swivelled, surveying the gardens and the lofty tree-houses and basalt boulder waterfalls, focusing on escarpments far into the distance, or some of the lusher clumps of trees. She ambled around the perimeter with her hands behind her back, but never once did her gaze stop moving. Dane was riding in the backseat of someone else's life.

Despite the vividness of it there were odd blurs in the sweeping panorama, most consistently in her peripheral vision. However she knew instinctively it had nothing to do with her eyes but some kind of mental short circuit. Once she knew what they were the wires would uncross and those blurs would disappear but until then, like everything else, no worries.

And that was it. For six hours of sleep she moved in real time around a garden with a sense of ease and duty. Waking up was not so much waking up but the sensation of blinking and having the whole room change in that instant.

That lucidity lasted a few minutes but by the time she sat down for breakfast at six-twenty the details were pretty scuzzy and fading fast. The details were gone, but she knew they had been clear.

The second night she went through it again. Not the exact same, for instance there were birds on the path where there were none, and in the distance someone was playing a wind instrument. Then _blink,_real world with dingy curtains and one of her room mates clattering the crockery in the kitchen. The velvet touch of petals under her fingers and the crunch of the sandy path dwindled into hazy memories.

The third night she put aside the computer, avoided her usual double hit of java in exchange for a decent perch fillet, leafy greens with a cup of milk and tucked herself in by eight on the dot. The last thing she remembered thinking with her head on her pillow, _The- …_

The thought finished on the other side, _-re. Bugger._

Again she was on the lush world she was beginning to call Daintree, both as a tribute to her own enriched fantasy life, and to the largest rainforest in Australia.

Same yet different. Very different, this time there were people. A week later they were talking to her and by the end of the month it was like being submerged in her very own soap-opera she could never pay attention to.

The blurs still lingered at random places through out Daintree like her own private censor. Sometimes even words, sentences or whole dialogues had a muffled quality to do with the mental short circuits.

These whole other realities might have worried other people, but Dane had only the most tenuous grip on this one as it was. Just so long as she didn't have urges to yell into mobile phones with dead batteries in public places everything was apples and could be considered as holiday time with pay.

** : **

**T**he last nail in the coffin came in the last three weeks leading up to the Colony's expedition and Tribe was bringing her Tokyo newspapers to read before work. Despite extensive training her language skills were still limping along like a veteran spider of the shoebox. The tourists she tried it on all struggled to hid smirks at her well meaning speeches about herpetology, and instead… well.

She sat down during her fifteen minute coffee break and pulled one of the little local gazettes towards her, trying to remember what happened the night before. She had been with mates, clad in similar uniform arguing about-

_-BLUR-_

It had the inflection of a long irritating car-ride squished together with the other three.

The articles were a month old but didn't matter for the purposes. The picture heading it that day sprawled the entire front, an out of focus greyscale where the flash had leeched most of the details. The heading beneath it was in capitals and she sounded it out haphazardly.

"Bush-shido sera sushi. Sushi?" She glanced at the picture again. The monster in the upper right hand corner did have a tentacled quality to it.

Tribe's broad calloused hand reached over her shoulder, dusting the pages with cake crumbs as he pointed at the figures darting around with what could have been lens flares swelling in their palms. "More likely they're referring to them. _Sailor Suited Heroines Save Civilians!_ Their version of Batman prefers to run around in school girl uniforms, which male populous don't mind at all. They call them Sailor Senshi."

"Sailor Senshi." The sky didn't turn dark, there was no symphony of brass, and as far as she knew no two-head cows had been born in the days leading up to it. "Meh."

"Meh, indeed," Tribe said jollily. "Think of how exciting life will be in less than a month! Cleaning cement floors on an entirely different continent by day, and watching rampaging monsters on the latest flat-screen televisions by night. Oh what an age we live in."

"Yuhuh." She squinted only once at the girls in the variety of skirts and shorts and bows and leotards. In fact the only thing they had in common was the collar flap around their neck. She then turned over to read about a successful bake sale and a car crashing into a streetlamp. She sipped her coffee for a while longer then went off to weigh the colony, check the dental records and fill out the updated reports. One of the mothers, Billi, was losing weight.

She only realised the significance of the picture that night as she slipped back to Daintree. Some of the mental blurs had gone. The detail on the uniforms were clearer similar to hers but lacking the collar flaps with pretty fringes and she could now hear the words _sailor senshi_ uttered either with annoyance or reverence by the people around her.

You just couldn't describe the excitement bubbling up inside of Dane at that moment, but only because it wasn't there. The sheer lack of reaction was probably annoying a higher being working over time to get things together.

_So, I'm on of them, a Sailor Senshi. I wonder if I can put that on a CV?_

This particular puzzle piece heralded the most annoying part of all, the impulses. They weren't the unconscious suggestions that wormed their way into everyday life, they were sharp, sudden and left her feeling just a little disorientated.

The original one hit her like a brick as she was grocery shopping, warily avoiding little old ladies who had an appetite for ankle injuries. As she turned over a soup packet looking for a price tag at the corner of her eye she so one of those little toy brackets, the kind you saw children throwing tantrums over because they'd been extra good that day.

She dropped the soup and spun mechanically. Her arm snaked out yanking her along with it as it tore a packet viciously from the bracket hard enough to cut her fingers on the plastic. She stuffed it in her pocket.

She was slightly perturbed by the sudden puppetry she had undergone, but outright horrified by the act of shoplifting. She quickly removed it from her pocket, only to look up to find a distasteful expression of a wizened old lady. Unjustified guilt pinched the back of her neck and she spread her hands appealingly with a goofy grin.

"Gee, I always wanted a-" she glanced at the packaging and waggled it carelessly- "yoyo?"

"Shouldn't you be in school," the senior citizen said coldly, eyeing the ground pointedly and when Dane followed the gaze it she saw she was dripping splendidly on the linoleum. She fished a hanky out and only succeeded in smearing the droplets into gross red streaks.

She stepped back with the expression of a job well done and told the old woman, "I'll go look for one of those caution signs."

She did mention it in passing to a poor kid who already looked like he was having a horrible day but paid for her items as quick as she dared, taking special care for the damned yoyo and hurried out.

When she had a quiet moment at the Sanctuary, a very rare commodity, she found a bench pried it loose of the plastic. There had been a few weeks in primary school when they had been all the rage but she had never found a knack for it.

After a moment staring at the cheap nasty thing and lamenting the good two dollars it had cost, she looped it over her finger to give it a burl with pathetic results. It ran down the string, up it, down again and then dawdled at the bottom until it lost momentum.

"Fun," she commented conversationally.

"Let me have a go." Dane gave a startled yelp as Tribe came around a corner unexpectedly.

Mildly annoyed she frowned. "How do you find me?"

"Magic jedi powers, hand it over." Her annoyance increased as the yoyo twirled up and down its string like an excited puppy. He smiled coyly at the ease he coaxed the toy through its paces. "Walk-the-Dog. Hypnotism. Hanged-Man."

"Don't you have lectures? I'm sure you're depriving an emotionally crippled First-Year of your corrosive attention."

"Ooh, what a big sentence for today. Something bothering you?"

"Nah, just my boss at Wok-Box. Changed my hours at the last minute yesterday," she lied easily, taking the yoyo back yielding another dismal result. They both stared perplexedly at the dangling yoyo for a moment more before Tribe disappeared around the corner again without a word.

As soon as he was out of sight she flicked her wrist as another insidious urge wormed into her brain as she had watched Tribe twirling away.

Part of her whispered _No, no._ _That's not the way to do it. That's not the way it's meant to be._ How it was meant to be she wasn't sure, but she flicked her wrist anyway, following through with her arm to fling it around her head like an old bullroarer, or like fire poi she'd seen circus players use. Instead she let go at the wrong time and it twirled around her forehead like a maypole to smack her in the nose.

"I saw that."

"Go away!"

If she thought she learnt her lesson she was wrong and had inexplicably bought a second one the following week. At least this time she was wise enough to experiment in her room with the door shut but she was even less successful than the first time. Two lumps above the eye for the price of one.

As the weeks ran down things got worse but at least didn't result in felonies, however that was a close thing. Thankfully the woman wasn't pressing assault charges.

Dane had negative rhythm. Most people have some rhythm, others had no rhythm but when Dane died the average of the population of the world would go up a considerable fraction, which was why when she knocked off with her workmates on a Friday night at the pub she kept wide berth of the stained tiles unjustifiably called the dance floor.

She circled the pool table, avoiding the suspicious gaze of the barkeep and nursing a rum and cola. Alas, the phone bill was due so she wasn't nearly drunk as she wanted to be. She sighed and rolled her eyes at the only attention she had received thus far, a sleezy guy in his late twenties who hadn't been intimate with a razor for quite a while. And despite her obvious nuisance, none of her friends had come to bail her out.

Thankfully nature called and she ungraciously excused herself. It was getting late and she once she'd gone to the toilet she could slip out quietly and catch a taxi home.

Just as she past the tiles someone stirred the jukebox with a terrible ACDC rendition.

Her whole body convulsed sideways with the overwhelming urge to rumba. Whatever else was following her from the alternate reality, co-ordination wasn't one of them.

Dane danced like other people had multiple seizures.

She took two people out with her flailing limbs before she could come to grips with herself, and had a room of cheering jeering drunks.

She was lucky in two respects. The first was that everyone had put the fit down to too much alcohol, and the second was that when more of these alien urges came to her, more dancing, singing, acrobatics, chess, stone carving, glass blowing, more damned yoyo flinging, came to her in private or when she could do nothing to sate it.

Of all these strange goings on the safest and perhaps the most enjoyable was the urge to fly a kite.

It nagged her for days before she acted on it and when she finally put aside a perfectly good Saturday morning, chiding herself along, she didn't expect any kind of therapy from it other than getting rid of the dreadful impulse. Instead she found if not a talent then an enjoyable hobby. As she stood in a clearing in a park it cleared her mind of its usual budget worries and housemate frustrations and absurd outside influences.

Well, almost all.

All, except the single revolving thought.

_This is wrong. I shouldn't be looking up, I should be looking down._

** : **

"**W**ell," Tribe beamed, dusting his hands as if he'd actually lifted a finger to help. "Now that's all sorted out and they're looking comfortable, someone should spend the night to make sure that don't go walkabouts and hurt themselves."

Dane restrained a heavy sigh, looking out at off-limits enclosure through half lids. While a koala's dining habits were hugely expensive, their living quarters weren't. The eight members of the Colony were blissfully happy with nothing more then a 6 x 1.5m in area with old gum forks were cemented into the ground and polypipe nailed to the side to sit fresh eucalypt branches in. The two males, Lawson and Paterson, were each separated by mesh in case they were feeling frisky.

The Colony's off quarters were in an artificially heated brick building with a few cages for observation and a kitchen for food preparation of the other residents of Aussie-Land!

Tribe had an expectant look and she remembered the last thing he said. She was so tired her eyeballs felt like they'd been boiled and her nerves were rubbed raw by the giggling of the female employees who'd come to coo unendingly and pet the Colony through the mesh

Then again, she may as well 'volunteer' and make herself look good. The fact it wasn't a choice was made more evident when she interrupted Tribe saying, 'they should recognise abnormal behaviour'.

"Yessir, I'll do it. Just," she waved in the general direction of a spare corner. "Can I have a sleeping bag? Or something?"

"What, no discipline? Children these days, no backbone," Tribe chastised playfully then offered a benevolent flourish of his hand. "Well, if you really must. I'm sure I can arrange… something."

"Thankyou sir."

"And while you're here you may as well do audit, that way only one of us has to be miserable.

"I hate you, sir."

** : **

* * *

**-beams proudly- There we go, the first chapter is up, and thankyou if you read it. Even if you didn't but popped down because of my mysterious introduction, no worries. **

**Again, Cheers and thankyou, stay tuned!**

Return to Top


	2. Mardi Gra in Town

_Ah, back again after an extended stint! It took a while to get this one right but hopefully I hit the nail on the head. Kudos goes to the girls at COSMIC club, Queen Ruby, Virtue and __Syrie__, available at www(dot)cosmiclub(dot)conforums3(dot)com/index(dot)cgi although is once again its in one of its hiatus stages. Praps a few new members will get the lifeblood flowing again! Cheers, R&R!_

* * *

**Mardi Gra in Town  
**_Chapter 2_

**W**hen you are seriously assessing the benefits of suicide over listening to that same damned Merry-Go-Round tune for the next four years, you were in trouble.

Dane lay on her side on a camping cot they'd assembled for her. One hand barely clutched a pen hovering over a checklist, the other dangled over the side into a cardboard box she dragged over. Even though the whole park had shut down two hours ago the obsessively repetitive jingle jingled obsessively in her head.

Perhaps if someone had a fed a children's choir crack before singing Humpty Dumpty in an endless round the same effect on mental continuity could be reproduced.

The air was stagnant with the gathering of a summer storm and it seemed to hum in anticipation. Lights flickered in the sky and the ominous rumble of thunder approached swiftly.

Dane was oblivious as she mustered every screed of energy to keep her eyes open. She stuck her hand blindly into the box and pulled something out. Identifying the rectal thermometer, she flicked through the pages and ticked it off before putting it into the pile. She slumped back down, building her strength to make another soul-sapping effort.

Catheter. What idiot decided to pack the old catheter and ship it across the ocean? She checked it off anyway. It was probably Rosalie trying to squeeze new equipment out of the managers by giving them all the old stuff. She lifted it up into the horridly yellow fluorescent lighting and could see the soft spots in the translucent tube. Really, it needed to be tossed out but it was neither in her authority or personality to make the decision herself.

Yawning widely, she flipped over and stretched her back. With her body still in a flexible arch, she opened one eye.

While she knew Tribe wasn't being over cautious by having a spotter observe the Colony in their first night in their new home, it was still a pain. As soon as each individual was established in a fork they began munching. Matilda, the elderly matriarch had patrolled the edge of the cage but quickly established her roost.

Dane froze in midarch.

Lawson, the elder of the two males was climbing down. He was a rumpy old man, brought because of his docile nature for photographing. His idea of athleticism was reaching for the branch on the far side but now he was almost falling down his branch in an effort to reach the bottom, snorting and sneezing.

She dropped back onto the cot and propped herself onto her elbows and watched as he prowled along the chain wire and to her amazement began to climb it! It was strong enough to keep the koala in but sagged against his hefty weight.

"Aw, now now big fuhla, where do you think you're going," she said in comforting tones as she swung her feet to the floor. He tugged at a paw persistently as a duclaw stuck. Equally, something was tugging at Dane, slight unease. She unhooked it and tried to coerce him back onto the cement floor.

It shouldn't be misunderstood, Dane's unease came not from some deep spiritual understand. If it had, life there on would have been a good deal easier but Dane had the sensitivity of a frostbitten limb. No, her unease came from reading her charge. His large downy ears flicked back and forth anxiously and he paced, well, waddled the length of the cage again.

She stood back her head on her shoulder, following him intently. On the other side, the other male, Paterson was dozing and not even Matilda had her head raised. What was up with the old boy?

Perhaps she could call Tribe, ask him what to do and maybe even administer a mild sedative but she could already hear his answer. He would be _sarcastic_. She'd rather tangle with a bear then talk to the man when he was _sarcastic._ Besides, it wasn't as if he was hurting himself, he was just a little bit overwhelmed about his new surroundings. Dane could sympathise.

Stifling another yawn, she dropped heavily back onto the cot and reached underneath it for the little container of rice they'd given her. As a uni student paying her own way and accommodation she well knew the benefits of rice and whatever condiments were left gathering dust at the back of the cupboard, but the fair people of Japan had made it into a divine art. She had already scoffed down one of the two, and she knew she should save some for breakfast but it was like resisting the apple from the Tree of Knowledge. The more she tried not to think about it, the more she found herself casually reasoning why should eat it and her head cycled the same stale excuses most people use. _I need the energy, if I eat it now I won't be hungry later, I'm a growing gir-_

The last though trailed off, flying in the face of all evidence.

Lawson uttered a guttural growl like a rusting muffler.

"Nah mate, no girls for you around here," she said mildly but he was now turning circles around his stump. He blinked myopically up at her as she approached the cage again. He still growled, louder and more urgent. His ears were flicking as if aspiring after Dumbo.

BAM!

The keeper jerked away with a terrified squawk, looking up to the roof for the source of the gunshot like clatter and saw a considerable dent in corrugated iron. It was followed by long scratching and then by three lighter bang! Bang! Bangs! For the absurdist of moments Dane tried to calm her racing heart by telling herself it was just possums getting frisky but suddenly another loud bang and a blast of air rushed over the building rattling the roof like storm winds, but the air still had the sticky stagnant feel as it prepared for what would probably be an aerial warzone later that night.

She stood up slowly, because with second explosion she dropped to the floor, and looked over the Colony. Lawson sat facing the base of his stump, Matilda had opened a single sleepy eye and the others were sitting up alert, possibly. You could never really tell. After a moment nosing the air they took the opportunity for a midnight snack.

Raking her hair back, even though more firecracker explosions boomed above she was getting a grip. She was told to not let the little furballs get hurt, so that's what she'd do. If she didn't know what danger they were in she couldn't do that so logically she should go outside and figure out what all the fuss was about.

As she thought this over more firecrackers were zooming around outside. Shriekers by the sound of them, with one so big she almost imagined the building shaking.

"Okay, you guys stay there, don't worry I'll be right back." Matilda yawned then went back to browsing even as she heard glass shatter outside. "No. Really. No protests please, I'll be perfectly safe, no need to get worked up about it."

They could've been robbers hoping to burgle sideshow alley so it made sense not to go out unarmed. There was a good deal of medication and darts for the kangaroos, but she wasn't licensed so she left them alone. Pole dart. She may not be able to give them actual medication, but she could fill it with water and some of the curry packet that came with her rice and they wouldn't know any better.

_Good idea, Dane, let's go._

She filled the empty rice container with water and dumped the curry in stirring it thoroughly then picked through a tackle box even as light as bright as a lightning flash flared beneath the door. She loaded the dart, clearing it of air with a measured tap then strapped it to what was for lack of a technical term, a pole. _My, how the world of science advances._ _Sharp things on sticks._

Still, she felt suitably dangerous and reasonably grumpy, a combination that would see any attackers running from the hills. On a three count she opened the door and in the stuttering lamp light she saw nothing out of the ordinary. The broad boardwalk opened into a pebbled crossroads where food vendors set up during the day. There was one corner of the macropod fence, but directly across from Aussieland was sideshow alley. Now it was quiet and empty now but still well lit. City life and lights took some getting used to.

With a firm grip on the pole dart, she stepped out into the open and closed the door behind her. Lawson was still grunting but everything seemed silent once more. Further down the bulbs in some of the lampposts had blown. There. A perfectly reasonable explanation. No drama. Thin glazes of light reflecting off the shards scattering the pathway.

And that blast of wind? The air rustled restlessly with the smell of ozone and the moon darted from behind heavy cloud cover lit from within with sudden lightning bursts and another sudden bark of thunder Dane cringed away from.

However the post being bent clean in half was a new one on her, as well as a pothole where one was completely missing.

Suddenly the air whistled overhead and from the corner of her eye she saw something careening over the macropod fence like a javelin. At first she thought it was a javelin but as it screamed on high she saw it was no trick of perspective and it really was as tall as…

Well… A lamp post.

She darted for cover, scrambling into a hedge.

The crossroads exploded in powder and rubble. The gouged cement fountained into the air before it came to a halt, buried to its waist and inches from a vendor's cart humming like a tuning fork.

Dane waved the air away, coughing and rubbing her eyes, waiting for the coast to be clear before climbing from her nest of thorns. She wondered if freak rains of lampposts were common in Japan and if she should make a note of it for tomorrow's morning report. If so she should probably include large, ogre-ish creature that also plummeted from the sky. It smashed what was left of the pavement, bouncing slabs into the air and she ducked for cover again, peering around the leaves tentatively.

"Um, hey. I'm new around here so I don't know if I'm intruding or anything," she said with her best attempt at a cheery smile. "But d'ya reckon you could take it down the road or something. Oh, and if you could mash the merry-go-round you'd make a lil' fella very happy."

She approached slowly with her hand extended. On closer inspection it wasn't very ogre-ish at all but more like those scary women on steroids in bodybuilding competitions, with bright red skin and her hands morphing like playdough into dumbbells. The handshake was out of the question. "Ha, the lecturers weren't kidding when they said you guys put hormones in the water supply. Note to self…"

As she spoke, he- she- it, ignored her hand after a quizzical expression, probably didn't speak English, and ambled around the earthed post in an assessing way before tearing it back out, groaning like heavy machinery. More rubble scattered across what was left of the crossroads and as she (it was probably a she, it was wearing a metal bra of sorts) advanced grinning.

Finally Dane felt slight unease dawning. It was her firm belief that bad things only happened to stupid people, but she was beginning to see flaws in the hypothesis. It was happening to her for a start. She bumped against the off-limit's door, the handle bulging in her back she could hear Lawson still grumbling.

Right, the koalas. Keep them from getting into trouble, or keep trouble from getting to them as the case seemed to be. Dane cast around for her pointy stick, which poked out from under the bush. Edging sideways and still maintaining a placating smile she pulled it out and held it in front of her like a fencing sword.

"Mate, mate just chill. We're all good aren't we?" The she-hulk swung the lamp post like a batter coming to the plate, taking out the small You-Are-Here map with prominent splintering. "No? Well, this is-" She held up syringe up into the bluish fluorescent light with her brain digging furiously, "This is Pee Gee Eff Two Alpha, so unless you wanna nasty phantom pregnancy…" She trailed off again, realising how stupid it sounded. Her shoulders slumped letting out an exaggerated sigh and jabbed the stick again.

It laughed, that same sound of grinding machinery. It flexed a bulging bicep, and Dane let out an astonished yelp as red glows crackled around its closed fist.

_That's it! Everybody out of the pool!_

Another fist of lightning pounded the earth in the distance and she could swear the offlimits shed shook.

Her hand had been fumbling for the handle behind her back but before she could twist it she was struck.

At first she didn't know what by except it felt like the static jolt equivalent of a road train. The pain! She still reeled from the first blast, clawing mindlessly against the door like a rat in a corner, and she barely recognized the second strike. The second was slimy and insidious, something, something intangible, something… _Like a leech? Or a.. or…_ Something occurred to her in a flash-

_-An image. During an assignment on ocean trench life there had been a picture of a dead whale, its pallid carcass stripped of skin and chunks being pried lose by a blind, deep dwelling shark. What was more it was blanketed worms… only they weren't worms, and they weren't fish because they had no jaws. They were proto-fish, lampreys that could only eat by burying their entire head up to their pharyngeal slits, gorging themselves on the decaying blubber and wriggling, working spiny rasps deeper and deeper into-_

_-My soul?_ As pain wracked her physically, something worse assaulted something she had always scoffed at. Her soul, her being, her whatever, and conscious thought regrouped. She braced herself against the cement wall and squinted through the crackling red light that enveloped her. Hot tears that hadn't been there scant seconds before ran down her face. The creature paused to take a breath and she gasped, scuffing her cheek with the back of her hand and staring at it blankly.

What was happening, what was that viscerally invasive feeling continued to worm deeper and deeper?

A third spasm hit as she looked up into the leering face of the she-man. All of a sudden that soul-worm sprouted its own rasps, stabbing and leaching, prying and tearing- Again her vocabulary struggled. Her energy? Her soul? Something was squeezing her like a lemon and whatever _it_ was, _it_ was being sucked away in pulsating surges which the he-she gulped at greedily.

The more _it_ left her, the more she struggled to stay conscious. Her eyelids sagged and she couldn't even hold a thought for more than a moment. Everything was fading to black. Was this dying? What was everybody whinging about? It was actually quite pleasant once you got past the agony. She let out a small sigh, and let oblivion take her.

_Flash!_

Light invaded her dark vision.

"_Mwahahahaa!"_ She-man crowed! Even though she was curled in a ball struggling to breath, the seed of a smirk arose on her smothered face because she recognised the tone instantly. It was the triumph of one who's unexpectedly found a fifty dollar note in the pocket of an old pair of jeans. He-she squealed and the spines dug deeper.

But even though the sickening draining sensation remained, it was as if someone had stuck the straw in an ocean instead of a milk glass. Suck all it wanted there was no end.

Behind closed eyelids she saw the spokes of lightning branching through the clouds the clouds leaching colour from the world. As the thunder unrolled after it deep and menacing, Dane surged to her feet more charged then an eight year old on red cordial. She flung out her arm and She-Man recoiled as if physically struck.

In its moment of weakness something flitted down from the trees like jungle darts, pink, red, lavender blurs of motion. They touched ground and launched themselves at the beast but the junior keeper couldn't track the movement. She stood up leaning against the door and regaining her breath watching the comet tails of movement dance around the She-Man attentively even though moments before she'd been trotting down a well know road paved with good intentions.

The red comet flickered, and She-Man's reeled backwards. The speeding blur had slowed down just enough for Dane to glimpse the woman inside it. A heavy heeled boot had put a dent in He-She's overdeveloped pectorals and Red had used it to flip backwards, landing on all fours like a squashed spider. And to her further fascination the cracked pavement seemed to liquefy. Small concentric ripples in the dirt pushed out from beneath Red's palms gaining momentum into cresting waves of fractured earth. A blast of light erupted overhead emanating from the pink blur which again paused long enough to attack, pale blonde hair being yanked by the budding storm winds.

Dane shielded her eyes against the glare and when her vision returned the purple blur was gone. No… wait. She was leaning against the building watching with the harassed expression of someone with something better to do then wait to clean up someone else's mess. What was more now that she could see they were all wearing the same conspicuous school girl collar of the sushi, er, senshi.

And since Dane was feeling unusually curious plus she was out of the line of fire, she ambled over.

"G'day."

Even though she'd come from the shadows, with an appropriate malevolent thunderclap, Purple only grunted in acknowledgement and didn't take her impatient gaze from the trio who'd turned the crossroads into a mud puddle. She-man swung his lamp post at Pink but she leapt over it, and sent another beam of light to blind it, opening it to a blizzard of red crystals.

Dane slumped beside purple, and also watched the show. "Yeah, anyhow, I was think'n I was one of you blokes. See I have all these annoying dreams, and I don't act like myself any more and, well, that's the gist of it? What should I do?"

"_Stop taking drugs."_ It surprised the keeper. Clearly it had been spoken aloud in a foreign language, but what was more it spoke directly to her brain, and still had the bored tones of a popular author replying to the question, "Where do you get your ideas?"

"I don't do drugs." At this point Purple finally dragged her attention away from her charges and gave Dane a pretentious up-down glance.

"_Then start taking drugs, I don't care. Just go inside so I don't have to protect your sorry butt." _Purple sighed heavily. There had only ever been two answers to this demand, and neither had ever resulted in the demandee doing what the demander demanded, namely getting their sorry butt out of harms way. The first was a firm declaration that they'll never leave her side, meaning the amethyst warrior would have to stand ground and defend, or the nimrod would throw themselves in front of an easily dodged beam with a heartfelt but redundant "Noooooo!"

She did not expect her to take the third option.

"Thanks, cheers," Dane said with disturbing jolliness that earning a second glance from Purple.

So Dane had been deranged from the start, it was nice to have the weight of not knowing off her shoulders and was tempted to whistle as she slipped the door ignoring the rumbling thunder and escalating lightshow.

When the door clicked behind her she looked up, paused thoughtfully for a moment before sticking her head back out into the open. "Hey! Hey ol'mate. Mate in the purple!"

Purple froze where she stood, which so happened to be on top of He-She's head ready to plunge a spear of some sort between its vertebras. Pinky balanced on its back siphoning off energy and managing to keep the creature still while Red had her hands on the ground and manipulated the saturated earth into swallowing its arms and legs to restrict movement further still. Purple stood with mouth open in scandalized shock at the very thought of being referred to as anyones 'mate' while the other two smirked with eyes twinkling. Clearly this was going to be used for later merriment despite the Purple's threats of disembowelment.

"Yeah, mate. Is there a Mardi Gra on at the moment?"

"_No!"_ Purple spluttered angrily.

"Cheers, thanks."

Dane ducked her head back in. "G'day. U'fortunetly the photo-ops start in a months time, and are between 'leven and twelve each day. So you know, if you could come back then we'll be good to go, eh?"

Standing in the middle of the off limits area cradling Lawson stood a figure, and it didn't take a genius to realise with the fruity dress and shepherds crook he was a part of the circus outside. The difference was he was inside, and he had Lawson.

The figure strolled leisurely into the light, bouncing Lawson like a baby who was beginning to get agitated. He was however well trained and only making vague scratching motions instead of doing the man's flesh like a cheese grater as he was capable of.

It was a man, a very ambiguous man but a man nether the less. He was tall, rail thin with shaggy olive coloured hair on top of which was balanced a tall bucket hat similar to the ancient Egyptian priests. Come to the thought, everything about him was reminiscent of ancient Egypt. The scarlet dress was probably a robe, with beaten metal shoulder pads and breast plate the colour of gold. In the centre of a pair of rams horns mounted on his chest was a blue stone, and a similar one on the golden belt at his waist. The robes also had a long slit at the side revealing disturbingly feminine calves and sandals.

When he wasn't responding she stepped further into the light. So far he didn't look or feel violent, more serene as he hummed tunelessly and bobbed Lawson, but Dane wasn't prone to sudden fits of stupid. She wanted to try and pry Lawson away from him but she still felt the sickly effects of He-She's leach and palm lightning combo. She also didn't want to approach him from behind in case he became unpredictable.

Chewing the inside of her mouth she came to a decision. She walked up to him and stuck her hand out. "G'day, I'm Dane. Can I have Lawson back?"

"No," the man answered, still smiling and staring intently at the skylights. The first fat raindrop hit it noiselessly, followed by another spoke of lightning and resounding thunder that vibrated against her spine. "We're Sothis."

"He's Lawson," she corrected with her hand still out awkwardly.

"We're Sothis," Fruity repeated. A long silence followed and Dane felt she was out of options, or more precisely there were many options on the table but she didn't want to risk any of them.

Suddenly a wave of light rolled over the top of the skylight, bright violet blinding out the lightning and pouring over the two of them. She hid her eyes and very briefly considered snatching Lawson and running, but suddenly Sothis heaved a contented sigh.

"Ahh," he exhaled long and breathily, a light of recognition finally coming into his eyes and a devious smirk spread over his full lips. There was something entirely rodent-like about the expression. Dane went to step back but when she glanced at her feet to keep herself from tripping a strange mist sifted around her ankles, twisting with colours of pink, red, purple, blue but predominantly a cool satiny grey. What was more she had the distinct impression she didn't want to step on it.

The self proclaimed Sothis chortled again, and if Dane's eyebrow had anywhere left to go it would have been hefted further up her forehead. Never in her life had she actually heard someone chortle. Sure she'd read it in literature which thought the more obscure the word the more sophisticated it sounded, or even rendered onomatopoeically as "Teeheehaha," but she'd never considered anyone would chortle in real life.

Ignoring her staring, Sothis curled his finger beckoningly and the grey mist uncoiled itself from the rest and snaked around the finger.

"It seems," Sothis said silkily, catching her eye and holding it. "That the senshi have destroyed my minion but I still have the energy it collected." He appeared to count the colours inside. "Four senshi, not bad if Sothis does say so himself. I only saw three. How many did you count?"

"The chicks in skirts?"

"Sometimes skirts," he conceded. "But not always. I like skirts, they show off my legs nicely."

"I'll bet. You've got better legs then I do," she said, feeling slightly embarrassed as she stuck out her own stumpy leg for inspection.

"Quite, have you considered moisturisers? This planet has some wonderful cosmetics."

"Nah, I hate the slimy feel." Dane hesitate, feeling distracted. "I only saw three too."

"Five? But there's only four senshi aura's here." Sothis stepped prissily into the midst of the mist and shuffled around looking for an extra colour.

"Uh, I meant I saw three as well. What's the grey bits?"

"That's the ordinary people's energy. Oooh, a dozen, maybe more tonight. They don't have much to give, not as much as senshi but why look a gift horse in the mouth. What a funny aphorism. Why would you look a horse in the mouth?"

"To check how old it is. Dental care. You can tell a lot about how an owner looks after its animal by its teeth. It's to make sure you don't get swindled." Again they exchanged glances that they were being sidetracked.

"I like that! But I'm only looking for senshi. They have something I need." Pursing his lips, he sucked at the pastel mists, sipping it like a wine snob. "Hmm, quite the cheeky red!"

"Have you considered asking?"

"You know, I never have, but taking is more fun. More of a challenge. When you're immortal you've got to find ways to keep yourself busy, hobbies and such thing?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. Well, I guess you've got what you want. I'll take Lawson and you can be on your way, huh?"

Sothis appeared to check his wrist which was _sans_ watch "Well, there's still a lot of night time left and I don't want to slack off. You seem to understand, nothing personal but these spells take such a lot of energy to conjure. If it's any consolation I have a much more gentle touch then the summons. It's about being professional, I always say." He sighed wistfully. "Sothis enjoyed talking to you, didn't we? Yes we did, it's so hard to find someone to chat to, to really get things off your chest."

"Well, you don't have to suck me dry you know. Maybe you could pop round regularly, ya'know? A weekly session?"

Sothis shrugged helplessly with grimy bangs falling across his eyes. He flipped them back with a gesture of _my hands are tied_, "Like we said, it's about being professional and if work got out people would think Sothis was sloppy. I regret this, I really do."

"Not as much as me I'll bet."

"Haha, that's cute. Bye!" Sothis smiled gently, and Dane looked away cringing, waiting for the blow. Everything had gone quiet except for her own slightly ragged breathing, the tapping of his high heeled sandals and the grim mutterings of the storm. She could try to make a run for it, but the chances were slim and it would make him angry. Same with a sudden attack. She had arms like a girl but feet like a mule. She really wished she knew more about what this was all about, perhaps if she had actually read those articles Tribe gave her rather then just pretending to read…

When the tapping of his heels stopped, she opened one eye and in that instant the black red and gold crook swiped above her head and she felt a tug, like a balloon caught in a breeze. Sothis made the sipping sound again and suddenly waited, stepping back and using the crook to tilt Dane's chin to look him in the eye that were hard as chips of topaz. They glinted ratlike again. "Oh…oh this is an unexpected but welcome surprise. I may not have found the mouse but I have at least found the cheese." His eyes became soft and milky again, twitching. "I'm sorry."

"Oh boy," Dane whispered to herself. "You poor schizo-bastard. I guess immortality does increase your chances of Alzheimer's."

"Admittedly yes, but I set myself a goal, and setting a goal is the first step towards success," Sothis beamed, the hat tilting rakishly to the side as he shuffled Lawson into a more comfortable position. Difficult as he was trying to bury himself in the man's armpit. He did notice however Dane watched the grey bear rather then himself. "Unfortunately using you is a step towards that goal." He emphasized this with another sweeping step forward. "Now if you'll just be accommodating, I'll put you through unbearable agony and we can both be on our merry way, capish?"

"Everything except capish." Dane said swallowing hard and stepping backwards again. "What happened to professionalism?"

The face jerked a bit in indecision settling on silent remorse. He jabbed the crook at her chest and she collapsed on the floor gasping. Gazing down to her amazement, smoking blue light was coaxed from her chest like a charmed snake. Dane screamed again, feeling the rasps dig deeper. "You do have a vivid, if slightly morbid imagination. Lampreys are they? Because I like you I'll dedicate them to you, my lampraiths. It has a sinister ring to them with all the awfulness of a flesh eating scavenger!"

The crook swooshed again above her head and two incandescent lampreys sat on her chest. Dane screamed in horror and nearly blacked out at the sight of them. She scrambled away but they only gouged at the soul. They sucked and sucked but she still didn't feel welcomed blackness the He-She Summon had brought, they just kept ripping and tearing at the shredded mat of her khaki uniform bleeding her dry. She tried to pry them off but her fingers brushed through their ghostly forms.

"Oh come on Aello! Do I need to kick you?"

"Make it stop!" she whimpered, curling into a ball and pawing at her chest. She was practically choking as her own hair muffled her words. She forced herself to her knees panting. "Please Sothis! Don't!"

"Hey sirrah sirrah!" he sang to drown out her voice. "What's the next line?"

"Help!"

"No that's not it." Sothis was beginning to get impatient. He stared down at the girl huddled against the wall, frantically groping at the summons. More and more of her energy flowed out but it felt never ending. That was because he was no longer tapping the pleasantly conversational girl but her glittering starseed which acted as a conduit for her own planet. His own fuzzy thought, the voices, the many voices all screaming at him.

_Do it! Do it! _The fat grey bear in his arms jockied for a better hold, tangling in the long belled sleeves of his robe, grunting and growling like a chainsaw. _Do it!_

He did. His crook lashed out connecting with her jaw with a loud crack and the girl howled in pain but severed violently as her mouth hung loosely. Tears wept down her cheeks and her eyes flickered on the brink of consciousness, but they eyed with vague annoyance between a brown box filled with medical nicknacks and the bear.

_Aha._

"Well!" Sothis suddenly exclaimed brightly with all the wooden talent of an Australian soap actor. He waved away the lampraiths. "It seems I did have wrong person. Sorry for the inconvenience, perhaps I will drop round for another session next week. They think I have unresolved issues with my mother. Ciao! Oh by the way. I've always wanted a pet so I think I will take your bear. He's cute, in an ugly kind of way."

Dane uttered a weak articulation of 'No' but couldn't as another jag of pain surged through her dislocated jaw. She inched forward, free of the lampraiths but the paralysing pain of her jaw had replaced it. Np, she had to go after Lawson!

As she lay, trying to control her haggard breathing a wave of helpless frustration rolled over her. She had to go after him! She had to! The litany repeated in her head and each time it was reinforced by burst of energy. She was so focused on going after him she never noticed the energy suffusing her, limbering her cramped and tense muscles.

Electricity branched overhead and the first fat raindrop scouts went _phlut_ against the corrugated metal. The sick yellow lamps of the off limits area flickered and died, but a soft glow still pooled around Dane's body.

She felt a tickle. She squashed the need immediately. But again, an itch, itchee, itchee. She turned her head and held her breath. Tickle, tickle…

"Whaa! Ahhh- Ahhh-chooo!"

A bold and blinding flash of light, stilled the air and cut the night. Vivid lightning, cascading cloud as an insignia blazed across her brow. Enveloped in a liquid glow, her clothes dissolved and a power flowed over her arms, across her breast. She felt a silky fabric caress her throat, her chest, her arms and thighs, while a raindrops pattered from a violent sky. It lifted her willingly to her feet as her heart thudded out a staccato beat. Tempest winds tossed hair and feathers alike and as newly sandaled feet touched down, she was spoiling for a fight.


End file.
